


Sometimes You Need Someone

by htebazytook



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Het, Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htebazytook/pseuds/htebazytook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna is frustrated.  The Doctor fixes things.  Lolz and sexyteims ensue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Need Someone

**Author's Note:**

> This is more friendship fic plus cracky sex, not OTP, and is really just underhandedly Rose/Ten.

**Title:** Sometimes You Need Someone  
 **Author:** [](http://htebazytook.livejournal.com/profile)[**htebazytook**](http://htebazytook.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Disclaimer:** <—  
 **Pairing:** Donna/Tenth Doctor  
 **Time Frame:** series 4  
 **Author's Notes:** This is more friendship fic plus cracky sex, not OTP, and is really just underhandedly Rose/Ten.  
 **Summary:** Donna is frustrated. The Doctor fixes things. Lolz and sexyteims ensue!

 

 

"So, what's got your knickers in a twist then? Something I said? Something I did? Something I _didn't_ say or do? Something I could _potentially_ say or do?"

"Oh come off it." Donna sighs. "If you must know, I'm horny."

"Oh _ugh_! T M to the I, Donna . . ."

She continues despondently, apparently oblivious, "Oh, I dunno. It's just one of those sort of phases of constant horniness, you know how it is. Maybe it's all down to your bloody time machine messing about with my body or something, huh, wouldn't be surprised."

"Don't wanna _kno_ -ow, _nooo_ no no . . ." The Doctor pauses. "Humans don't go into heat."

Donna snorts, gestures at herself. "Tell that to my hormones, Doctor."

" _Well_ , I mean . . ." The Doctor shoves his hands in his pockets, gives her the coyest of looks over the rims of his glasses. Says an octave lower, "I can help you out with that, you know. I'm a doctor."

Donna's expression doesn't flicker for a full minute. Then she erupts into laughter.

The Doctor tries and fails to speak above it a few times, then just waits til it finally subsides to say, "I'm a skilled and tender lover!"

Donna has to brace herself against one of the TARDIS's columns this time, and her whole body shakes with honest to goodness guffaws.

The Doctor runs an irritated hand through his hair. "Right." He trudges over to the console and sets a new course.

Donna's laughter fades in the background. She appears in the Doctor's peripheral vision. "Hey, don't be like that. I'm sure you're a, ahem—" She can't help snickering a bit. "—a . . . tender lover. Ngk." Leaning against him and shaking in an effort to suppress it, now.

The Doctor can't help smiling. "Oh, go on then."

Donna lets go and lets herself giggle a bit, then rubs at the Doctor's shoulder soothingly. "Sorry, sorry. It's not your fault you’re a lanky bloke with creepy old bug eyes who's all knees and elbows."

"You really know how to sweet talk a girl, Donna."

"I'm horny, Doctor."

"Yep, heard you the first time, actually . . ."

" _Horny_!" She's so affronted by this. "I haven't had sex in absolute _ages_ , huh, no thanks to you, I might add . . ."

The Doctor turns to her, the better to blink in disbelief. "What did _I_ do?"

Donna puts her hands on her hips. "Murdered my bloody fiancé, for starters."

"What—he—destroying the world!"

"Oh _that_ old excuse . . ."

"You make it sound like I say that all the time just to justify my actions!"

Donna gives him a meaningful look.

"Right, okay, point taken," the Doctor says. "Listen, if it'll stop your whining, I'm perfectly capable of making love sweet love to—shut up shut up it's not funny! I'm telling you, I'm fantastic!"

Somewhere between her gasps for breath Donna manages, "I'd like to see you try."

The Doctor eyes her, considering. "Challenge accepted."

"Ahahaha, hang on, what're you do—" Donna's eyes go wide in the beat before the Doctor pulls her flush against him and kisses her.

The Doctor's surprised by how quickly she goes from annoyance to kissing him back. Her lips are soft and pliant, and her arms are sort of trapped between them so she seizes his lapels and holds on for dear life as the kiss deepens unexpectedly. The Doctor moans before he can stop himself and Donna moans right back, kisses him harder and he runs his hands up and down her back a few times before dropping to pull her closer by her arse.

Donna tears herself away, stumbles back and points an accusing finger at him. "You'd better not be thinking about _me_ , though, right. I'll not have you . . . _objectifying_ me, Doctor," she warns.

"Oh no, no, course not, that would just be offensive. Not thinking about you while we're engaging in coitus, check." The Doctor nods.

"Oh you think you're sooo funny."

"I am funny!"

"Funny looking, maybe."

"That's . . . really? The best you can do? _Really_?"

"Not the _best_ I can do . . ." Donna turns a positively seductive smile on him, which doesn't really turn him on so much as make him extremely suspicious. She leans closer to kiss him again as if to prove she's serious, though, and that's really rather lovely . . . The Doctor _mm_ 's and kisses back, runs his tongue along her bottom lip before seeking entrance. Donna's tongue dances with his awhile before sucking on it highly suggestively and okay, _that's_ turning him on some . . .

He isn't prepared for it when Donna starts walking him backwards through the TARDIS, snogging him with a passion he hadn't thought she was capable of up against various parts of the ship. Then again, not so surprising, really. He thinks it rather miraculous that they don't accidentally knock some crucial lever or other along the way and doom them both.

Once they do make it to Donna's quarters she's ripping his clothes off with gusto, and the Doctor isn't sure whether that's because she is apparently out of her mind with sexual frustration or because she just hates his perfectly serviceable and really rather chic attire. He's guessing the latter, but then again she kisses him a lot throughout, pushes his glasses off and throws them somewhere carelessly, then hurries out of her own clothes on their way to the bed.

The Doctor holds her down, trails gentle kisses along her throat and caresses her breasts, planning on driving her mad with desire until she's unable to form an insult and is just begging him for more.

Donna sighs, not orgasmically. The Doctor lifts his head. "Oh _what_ now? Is there a problem?"

"Uh, yes." Donna waves her arms about like that's supposed to explain things. "Get _on_ with it, Doctor."

"On with . . . "

"On _me_." Donna gets one of her legs up over his hip, shifts him forcefully up the bed and reaches between them to guide his cock and—

" _Oh_ , okay. Okay. Ha. Okay." The Doctor tries his best not to just push the rest of the way into her. Her glassy gaze and intoxicating scent and the welcoming warm squeeze of her cunt don't do much to steel his resolve.

Another annoyed sigh. "Listen, I don't know how they do it on Mars or whatever, but you're supposed to _move_ , right about now."

"I. Am. Not. From. _Mars._ "

"Oh, whatever."

The Doctor growls and thrusts into her, to which her eyes widen and her legs tighten and she breathes, "Yeah-okay-then."

He finds a lazy rhythm, times it to her tiny little utterances and tries very hard not to come immediately at the onslaught of sensation. It's been ages—literally ages, probably, and it doesn't even matter that Donna is a bit demanding, she's here and warm and he thinks she understands.

The Doctor had been rather too caught up in his own pleasure to notice that Donna's closed her eyes.

"So," the Doctor gasps, astounded that sex can feel simultaneously so good and _so tedious_. "Who're you thinking about, then?"

"None of your business!"

"Yes it is! Definitely my business I should think, considering. And anyway you already know who I'm thinking about, so that's not really fair."

"Oh _fi_ -ne, if you're going to be such a tosser." Donna pauses to moan at a particularly accurate thrust. "David Beckham."

The Doctor stops moving for a minute, pulls a face. " _David_ bloody Beckham? How am I supposed to compete with that?"

Donna rolls her eyes. "Well you're not, obviously, which is why I'm closing my eyes, innit?"

The Doctor shrugs. "Fair enough."

They stare at each other, somehow deadpan amid the jostle of the Doctor's thrusts and the squeak of the bed and the dull throb of building pleasure.

After awhile, Donna reflects, "Bit rude of you to be thinking of her at a time like this. Bit offensive, really . . ."

"You—you _told_ me to!"

"Well, yes, but it's not very good manners, is it?"

"Urghh, bloody _impossible_ , you are." The Doctor fucks her harder in a vain attempt to shut her up, and she clutches at his forearms and moves her hips in tandem, so okay, maybe it's working.

He shifts Donna up the bed a bit to get a better angle, to which she sighs long-sufferingly, but she also pushes back against him in encouragement and her grip on his arms tightens. The Doctor grins, feels even more accomplished when Donna groans and breathes, " _God_ . . ."

Donna's legs lift and lock around the Doctor's waist, and the added pressure makes him sink even deeper inside her. He groans and thrusts harder and faster and now that she's stopped babbling he can concentrate on her desperate gasps and the heat of her body. Pushes his forehead into the pillow next to her head and can smell her hair, imagines it smells different and closes his eyes to ignore the color. Pictures particular grins and different laughter, different eyes and _On your own?_ and feels the approach of orgasm, got to keep moving toward it more and more because once he reaches it he'll be able to forget again, for awhile. All he wants is to forget—why won't anything he does ever just let him _forget_? Oh, she feels so good, though, and see, she isn't really gone, that's simply too awful to be real, and the feeling in his chest is _so_ beyond merely missing . . . so hot and so close, so almost his . . . loves her loves her loves her . . .

" _Rose_." He shudders through his climax, thinks somewhere above the haze of it that he might actually kill Donna if she says something sarcastic just now, but she only makes pleading little noises and claws at him. The Doctor pulls out, then shimmies down her body, leaving vague kisses here and there before settling between her legs.

"Oh _fuck_ ," she manages, so oddly pitched and unlike her that the Doctor can start imagining again.

He runs his tongue vaguely against her cunt, just tasting before licking the folds open and concentrating on her clit. Donna arcs up into the attention and the Doctor lets her, switches to sucking on it lightly and slipping two fingers inside her to continue fucking her, twisting them and apparently hitting the right spot because she starts sort of thrashing about in response. He grins to himself, circles his tongue around her clit a few times before going back to sucking, harder than before and Donna's got a merciless grip on his head now, grinding up into his face and he struggles to incorporate his tongue, has to seize her hands and slam them against the mattress in order to continue properly. Holds her down and won't let her move at all, just licks faster and faster at her clit and watches her face scrunch up in pleasure, switches quick to flicking his tongue side to side and her eyes fly open and she curses and comes, her whole body twitching and writhing and gorgeous.

The Doctor wipes his mouth, grins down at Donna Noble rendered speechless—he should get a medal for that, honestly. Hops up the bed to lie next to her while his hearts slow.

"I give it a B," Donna says, after a minute.

"Oh, you _are_ kidding. You are _kidding_. All that work for nothing . . ."

"Oi, not for nothing. A B is a perfectly good grade and nothing to be ashamed of." Donna pats him on the head like he's five years old. "You did a perfectly adequate job for a space-man."

The Doctor sighs. "I'll just be over here deluding myself that this is in fact a ploy to solicit me for sex in the future."

"We'll see. You're not _terrible_ , just a bit out of practice, I expect, and yes yes, obviously there are things you could work on . . ."

The Doctor pinches the bridge of his nose, then realizes Donna has finally stopped talking. He glances over at her and finds her looking at him with serious eyes.

"I was a bit alone, you know. But neither of us is alone anymore," Donna says, and the Doctor is reminded of why he puts up with her.

He smiles, takes her hand. "There's that."

*


End file.
